


The Set Up

by Ylevihs



Series: How Not to Fall [41]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Rebirth Spoilers, Retribution Spoilers, canon typical paranoia, major farm headcanons, non consensual drug use, references to past torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs
Summary: She's not awake yet.
Series: How Not to Fall [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327892
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	The Set Up

Tight, timed dulled aches started waking up and sharpening their knives in his back and hips. His fingers kept trying to twist themselves into knots and succeeded in cracking knuckles loudly. The Mad Dog suit helped. Made the uncontrollable shifting and twitching seem like a caged animal, restless but dangerous.

The Rat King skittered softly, calming him as best it could. Richard didn’t necessarily need the addition, but he reached out to them anyway. A brief brush against the thoughts and he pulled back. Nothing yet. Nothing inside there but temptation and paralytic dread.

She wasn’t awake yet. But it wouldn’t be long. It hadn’t been part of the plan to have her pass out like that, but Richard wasn’t about to complain. He’d almost laughed when Bo admitted he’d tried to have her fasten her seat belt and Regina had refused.

Boris had done a fantastic job; she hadn’t suspected anything from him besides rank and file incompetence. But then he had asked some questions. Fair ones, all things considered. He was perfectly good at taking orders from a steady paycheck, but Mad Dog’s personal proclivities had given him a fair break from having to see women in pencil skirts and heels punched in the stomach and gagged. The sudden change warranted the minor probe.

“Who is this?” Quiet. Not really expecting an answer, but curious to see if one was given.

“A scientist.”

He’d nodded, knowing when the order to shut the fuck up was being given. He flicked on a blinker to merge and weighed the options of asking the next question or keeping it to himself. Richard didn’t bother waiting for his mouth to decide. We’re in the kidnapping business now, boss? “You can drop her off whenever you want to Bo. If the right people find out what she’s been up to, she’ll go to the Hague for crimes against humanity,” a lie, but one that had enough feeling in it that Richard didn’t have to force it. The Farm committed atrocities, sure. But Regenes didn’t have rights to violate. You didn’t go to jail for torturing a coffee maker, no matter how advanced it was. Boris’ reaction felt good though. He trusted that his boss wasn’t about attacking innocent people.

“What about the other woman?”

“She’ll be okay,” another, more private lie. Whoever that cuckoo had been, she’d failed her mission. Lost her charge. Not just any charge either. If she ever made it back to the Farm—which if everything went to plan, she never would—there would be worse punishment waiting for her there than any Taser level shock Ricardo had given her. Bo had nodded again and focused his mind back on the drive, satisfied enough for the moment.

Now he was parked in the alley outside, cleaning out the backseat of the car and blasting pop music on the radio.

She was really there. Just. Right there. Mad Dog kept his distance, despite the. No. There was no such thing as a lack of a threat. Not from her. She was unconscious and restrained. Tied into a chair on the tarpaulin. Gagged. Blindfolded. Terrifying in ways that made his knees weak. The creature from his nightmares. The shadow in the back of his brain. After a second too long lingering by her side, he’d forced himself up the stairs and stared down at her. Perched on the metal cat walks and pacing. His own footsteps set him on edge, but a fair amount of that particular unease was coming from Daniel.

He had volunteered to sit down by where they had trussed her up, keeping an eye on her. Seated with his elbows on his knees and hands folded in his lap. Watching her closely so that he didn’t have to keep an eye on Mad Dog. The suit was slowly becoming less and less horrifying, but no less upsetting. Richard could feel more primal fears creeping in at the corners of Danny’s mind. But he wanted to. A surge of self-hatred and nausea welled up Richard’s throat. Danny wanted to prove he was strong enough, a desire that had been a long time in the making. Prove that he wasn’t the baby of the team. And he could do this.

That being said, it made it easier for everyone at the moment if Mad Dog simply stayed out of direct sight.

The difficulty had been getting her set up. Touching her. Fighting the desire to throttle her and the marrow deep instinct to let her go. Get her out. Get her away.

Regina’s arms were tied close together, bound tightly up to the elbow and down to her knuckles and then strapped firmly behind her to the chair back. Her legs were similarly bound, up to the knee and down to the ankle. Tied to the front chair legs. After a moment of hesitation Richard had been able to adjust her collar to start an IV drip, direct into her jugular. Part of his brain, the segment that had been designed along with every other molecule of his body to protect her, wanted to say it was for hydration and it made his stomach roll. The rest of his mind glared at it until it sulked into a corner. Even the Rat King leveled the mental equivalent of an annoyed squeak. The IV was mainly to flush her system; who knew what she had lurking in there on a daily basis? Hopefully nothing that would react with the sodium thiopental he’d diluted into the drip.

Who knew what she had been preparing for?

He could know. He could know he could just slide right in. It would be so pathetically easy she was out cold her defenses were down think of the information he could. Couldn’t. God, but he wanted to. He could kill her right now. Damn sending messages and point making, it could be over and done with and all he had to do was. Was. It wouldn’t change anything. His primary tormentor would be gone, but the system she ran would be still be up and plugging happily away. Torturing and destroying. Regina was good. But to the people who paid the electricity bill, she was just another cog. An important one, one they would hate to have to replace, but one that could be replaced none the less. Lab coats were lab coats, after all.

It took far more effort than he would ever admit to turn away from watching her and step into the small office. He hadn’t changed anything inside it when he’d taken over the building as his base. Dust collected in the corners. Spiders mindlessly curled away into the shadows when he opened the door. There were bits of broken glass on the floor, spray painted tags on the peeling wallpaper. Remnants of bored teenagers from years past. The desk was ancient metal, rusting at the edges. And hunkered onto it was Regina’s personal travel computer. Lugged all the way from the Farm, so that she wouldn’t have to really spend any time away from the office. The seat of the chair had been broken in a long time ago. Didn’t matter. He was in no mood to sit. Did matter, something corrected him. Did matter, he wasn’t the one who was going to be the most interested in this. He’d have to go down to the main floor to grab a replacement.

It wouldn’t have everything. No one place besides her wretched mind would have everything in it. And even then she’d only know everything she had done. Too many workers in that particular hive for even the Queen to keep a bead on. Too many enemies on the inside, waiting for their own chance.

No, it wouldn’t have everything. But it would have more than enough.

A sudden metallic crunch and Richard felt his heart wrap around his windpipe and yank. The Rat King skittered and sent out feelers and. Outside. Outside Bo’s thoughts were scolding him for knocking something over in the alley. He breathed in, reedy, trying to steady himself. She was going to wake up soon, and the anxiety that thought woke in him was joining the pain in his joints.

Mad Dog could verbally spar with the likes of Argent or Charge, but Richard had no confidence when it came to her. And if she knew it was him who was beneath the suit? He wouldn’t stand a chance at all. But, he checked the time on an internal monitor, Ricardo was running a bit late. She wasn’t awake yet. She wasn’t. He could go back out.

The office door opened with a ragged squeal and his footsteps echoed. Metal armor on metal grating echoing into the room. A back of the mind flutter of anxiety from Daniel. Forced back and cordoned off to be dealt with at a later time. Danny turned his head up to look at him.

“She’s still out cold,” he offered and Richard nodded silently. The voice modulator bothered Danny more than anything else. A heavy beat. Mad Dog finished the last few steps to the metal stairs and descended them as steadily as he could. Soft but quick wing beats, trying to slip silently by and then giving up. “What are you going to do when she wakes up?” voicing the fear. Giving it shape and name. Richard felt his lungs shudder, hands going briefly numb with the rush of terror.

“Nothing,” the growl of the helmet earned a slight blip on the radar. God, Daniel was good at that. Carefully riding the sudden updraft of fear, placing him on just a slightly higher and faster air current. Steadying out. “I want to wait before having a chat with her,” Danny believed him. It was taking a great deal of self-control—already fraying at the edges as it was—to not end it all now. But Daniel believed that he wouldn’t kill her. And Richard wanted it to be true too. “She’s going to have questions when she wakes up,” he went on, finally managing to look up at her face. Her eyes were covered by the blindfold, thank goodness. The gag in her mouth was crusted over with blood from her broken nose and stomach bile. Her hair was in twisted disarray. The broken nose whistled loudly. “And whatever she asks will tell us a lot about what she thinks is going on,”

Quieter. Fainter. Corner of his mouth question: “Are you doing okay?”

It wrenched at Richard’s heart, dragging the answer to the surface screaming and kicking out his teeth from the inside. “No. But it doesn’t really matter,” Daniel’s thoughts gathered and protested loudly that it very much did matter, thank you very much. “Are you?” and the protestors were silenced, gathering up their signs and shuffling nervously back home. A quick examination of his own thoughts that Richard tried not to spy too closely on.

“I’m alright.” He muttered back, meaning it. Or wanting to, at least. His eyes darted to Regina and then back to Mad Dog. A little fleck of something harder in his voice. “I’m okay,” Richard held his stare and felt his stomach twist again. Daniel pulsing out something soft. “I’m not going anywhere,” half reassurance and half unspoken accusation. You can’t run from this, it said. You can’t and you won’t have to. I’m here.

But he could run just a little down the block. Stay up on the catwalks as long as he could. “Needed to grab a chair for the office,” he offered up, grabbing one of the folding chairs he’d stacked in the corner. Daniel watched him for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the unconscious woman. He was gathering himself for something, Richard could feel it in his teeth.

“She doesn’t. She looks so,” he trailed off. Old didn’t fit. And neither did frail.

“Small,” Richard finished for him, chancing another cursory glance. Innocuous. She looked more like someone’s high school chemistry teacher than a demon. And the way she looked now, she painted a perfect picture of helplessness. Pathetic. Like someone who needed to be saved from the big bad villain. Richard was treated to a flash in the pan burst of anger and revulsion and.

Oh.

Oh that was an image of himself that Regina had showed the Senator. One of the things Daniel had been allowed to see. It wasn’t flattering, to say the least. His eyes had been rolled up in their sockets, eyelids slightly open, mouth dropped forward. Maybe he’d been screaming? Or just out of it. Hard to place what was really being done to him and his mind forced himself away from the catalogues to try and remember. There were needles visible. Tubing. Hands twisting and holding him down. He wanted to make a joke; if the torture charges didn’t stick, maybe they could nail her for desecration of a corpse with those pictures. He held it back, the trembling in his throat probably wouldn’t add any humor to the words, gallows or otherwise. 

“She’s not gonna get away with it,” Daniel’s voice shook him back into the moment. The anger was still there, simmering now, just below the surface. “Not if I have anything to say about it,” dramatic. An air of nobility in the voice. Appropriate.

Something desperate clawed its way up from the depths of his mind and wanted it to be true. Wanted Daniel to be right. He knew it wouldn’t be. Couldn’t be. Too many things could. Would go wrong. She’d get away. There was nothing to accuse her of besides playing God. And that wasn’t technically illegal, as far as he knew. There was no Mary Shelley clause in the law for people playing Dr. Frankenstein.

And if there was a trial, she’d get acquitted. The Farm didn’t have as deep pockets as they once did, but people like the Senator and her husband could have the records scrubbed. Evidence destroyed. Hire lawyers to claim witnesses and files were inadmissible to keep their own names clear. They might let Regina take the fall for company—cold comfort. It sent more shudders down his spine than pleased shivers.

They could claim she was one devil in a company of saints. Their company supplied medical transplants, they didn’t involve themselves with the military except on a rehabilitation level. Regina had been one mad scientist—and goodness knew that sort of thing was simply one of the risks a company took when it chose to operate in the lawless west. She was brilliant, they’d argue, but clearly insane. And they couldn’t possibly be held accountable for the private actions of one crazed woman. They’d make it a small scandal. Pay off the right papers and news channels. Pay a few politicians to make some sad speeches about the state of medicine today and all the impediments scientists already have to face without the stigma of madness.

It would be a minor stain on the dining table. Something easily hidden by a new set of bone china. They’d claim to shut down her ‘awful experiments’ and fire any of her unhinged colleagues who’d gone along with her plans. And they’d quietly move in replacements, people who would take over where things had been left off. Threaten or bribe any officials who may have seen too much or muttered too loudly. And things would go on as normal.

He needed more. More than what the computer could offer. More than what Regina might spew out once she was awake and properly goaded. It was an endless uphill climb and he needed all the rope he could get.

Richard was already up the stairs with the folding chair when he heard the sound of an engine being cut off outside. The Rat King amplified Bo’s mind, familiar and slightly on edge, recognizing the man on the bike and hoping quietly that his boss knew what the hell he was doing. There was another mind with Ricardo, even more nervous than Boris. A different sort of unease. Restrained excitement. Heady caution. Trusting if only because the only other option was missing out.

Whispered voices waited outside the locked door and Richard moved quickly, setting the chair down and heading down the stairs. He allowed himself a moment to steady himself as he unlocked the door, willing his hands to stop shaking. Time to play the part. The metal door shuddered open. Ricardo didn’t turn to look at him, keeping careful watch on Miss Ochoa as her own eyes widened.

“Well.” She blinked and then immediately reached for something in her bag. Good. She’d brought her gun. What she actually grabbed was a small tape recorder. A small peal of fear was overwhelmed entirely by massive blunt force curiosity. “Not what I was expecting at all, but I can’t say I’m disappointed,” Mad Dog was still solidly in her mind as not posing an immediate threat to her. To be cautious around, certainly, but not to be feared. She didn’t wait for the invitation, stepping into the building. “So you two are working together,” zipping along mental connections with unfettered delight at being right.

She rounded on Mad Dog as soon as Ricardo had stepped inside and closed the door. “What exactly–,”

Mad Dog held up an armored hand. “All good things to those who wait, Miss Ochoa,” he reached out and tapped the edge of her recorder. Ochoa looked up at him from under her eyebrows, mind working quick. So quick. Her gaze darted down. She wouldn’t be able to see Regina yet, not from that angle. Richard was betting that even once she did, her desire to figure out what was going on would override any fear or misgivings she might have. The presence of both Charge and Herald in the activities should be more than enough to keep her attention. “If you’ll follow me, I’ve set up a spot for you to watch the show,”


End file.
